Just tell me why
by Sunnyqueen
Summary: Corporal Robert Perry receives an unexpected visit at Saint Francis Hospital. A visit that gave him the best news he had ever wished for. M/M Eliot Spencer/ Robert Perry.
1. Chapter 1

If he could have run, he would be running at the entrance right now. But he couldn't, so he was spinning the wheels as fast as he could. Doctor Laroque had told he had a visit, a very special one, so he thought Jenny might be paying him a visit, it was the least she could do after dumping him at the hospital.

But when he got outside, he didn't see the raven-haired woman that had been his fiancé not the stunning green eyes. Instead, he was welcomed by two deep blue eyes, tan skin and mahogany hair.

"Eliot." He said, frowning. He hadn't seen him for almost two years.

"Robert." The other man said, walking up to him and shaking hands with him. He walked behind him and started pushing the wheelchair to a bar across the street. He needed a beer.

"Where have you been?" He asked.

"We had to leave L.A after a big con, as you know. After that I went to Pakistan, after that we moved to Boston, we had to split again and I went to Iran and now we are Portland." Eliot quickly summarised. "How you been doing?"

"I'm ok. Doc says that maybe with one more surgery I could walk again." He said and then sighed. "But…"

"It's expensive. I know."

"How would you know?" He asked, frowning.

"We keep track of everyone we help, Robert. You were the first one, Robert. And I'm the one keeping track on you. That includes calling Doctor Laroque every once in a while to get an update of your status." Eliot confessed. "Do you want something?"

"A Coke." He replied and watched how Eliot moved to the bar to get their drinks.

After they had helped him against Castleman, Eliot volunteered to help in the hospital as rehab trainer. At first Doc didn't really trust him, but when Eliot told her that he was a soldier too, everything changed and she trusted him almost immediately. He would go there everyday when they weren't running a con. They bonded really quickly, since Eliot was one of the few guys who had been in Iraq, just like Perry had been.

But it hadn't only been the Doc who was sceptical about Eliot: no one ever volunteered to a military hospital like Saint Francis. But he had seen Eliot fighting. The way he moved, the way he took down those two other guys… he wasn't a normal soldier like he was. He was a Black Ops. He had to be. But every time he brought the topic up, Eliot would shut himself down or change the topic right away. So he ended up calling one old friend of the military school who had been drafted to the Black Ops sections.

"Hey Jimmy." He greeted when the other men answered the call.

"**Robby, dude. I heard about what happened to your troop. I'm so sorry dude, next time I'm home I'm coming to see you."** His friend said.

"It's ok, don't worry. I wanted to ask you something about someone."

"**Sure. Who is it?"**

"I don't really know if he is or was a Black Ops but the way he fights screams it." He said.

"**Name, Robert."**

"Eliot Spencer."

"**D-do you mean **_**Commander **_**Eliot Spencer**_**?**_**"** Jimmy asked in a shriek.

"I guess." He replied, not really understanding that reaction.

"**Long brown hair, not too tall, blue eyes, tan skin, Southerner drawl?"**

"Yeah." He was surprised. "You know him?"

"**Dude, everyone knows about him. He is like a legend here in the Black Ops!" **He said, excited. **"And you know him! This is awesome!"**

"Seriously? Is he a veteran?"

"**A veteran? No! He is a Special Black Op! He's a retrieval specialist and he only comes for the big dangerous missions. Like… Killing Al'Qaeda's head, stopping atomic bombs launches, stealing some documents… Heard his head has price in three countries."** It was obvious the admiration in his voice.

"Dude, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you are in love with him." He joked and was answered by a laugh.

"**Jokes aside, Rob, he is one of the best seriously. How do you know him anyway?"**

"Well… I contacted a guy named Nathan Ford about… three or four months ago because I needed someone who could make Castleman play the bills of my treatment. He works with him. They gave the hospital more than two millions of dollars. He is volunteering at the hospital as a rehab trainer." He replied.

"**That's awesome dude."** Jimmy ex-changed some words with someone else before going back to talk to Robert. **"Hey bro, I've got to go. Captain wants to see me. I have someone in here, Commander Shelley, he wants you to say hi to Commander Spencer from his part."**

"Sure. Take care, ok?"

"**Sure. You too."**

Eliot came back with both drinks and sat down in front of him.

"How is everything in there?" The hitter asked.

"We are good. We still have a lot of the money that you gave us." He explained. "Some new guys are in here too. Some of the others went back home." Robert stared at his drink for some seconds before he continued to talk. "We missed you. You were the only one who knew what it was to be in the field. The doctors, and trainers, and nurses are great people, but it's not the same." He said.

"I'm sorry. We had… hum… a few legal problems and I went to Pakistan to do some stuff. Hinky stuff as Hardison says." He chuckled. "We stayed in Boston for a while, then Nate got arrested, he found a client in jail, we got him out of jail, stayed around until we had to take down a really bad one, scattered around the globe again, met up in a freaking mountain for over a year. Several months later we took a man, our first mark as a team, down because he was trying to kill us, scattered around because we were having trouble with Interpol, CIA and FBI and now we are in Portland." He quickly explained everything to Robert. "Look, I'm sorry I disappeared so suddenly, but the less you know, the better you'll be." He said.

"I understand that. Is just… you could at least have said that you weren't coming back. But no hard feelings. Job is job and what you do helps millions of people." They toasted.

They had a great time, telling each other about everything. Well, maybe not everything in Eliot's part, but everything that wouldn't put Perry in danger.

"What are you doing here in LA?" Perry asked.

"I… I have a proposition for you." He said, putting his beer down.

"A… proposition?"

"Yeah. I want to pay for your surgery." He said, directly.

And Corporal Robert Perry spat his drink all over Eliot. "You what?"

"I will pay for your surgery." Eliot replied calmly, wiping the coke on his face with a paper tissue.

"I understood that. But why?" He asked.

The older man didn't reply immediately, he stared for a while at the table, frowning. "Because I can relate." He only said. He then smiled a bit. "Has she ever come?" He asked softly. It doesn't take a genius to know that Perry is thinking that, in the case he accepts what Eliot is offering him, the surgery comes out well maybe Jenny and him could be together again.

"No. Never. Not a call, not a post-card, not a letter… Nothing. She just left me there and disappeared." He mumbled, feeling his throat close a bit.

"I'm sorry." The elder said. "But she didn't deserve you."

"No. It's not that. Who would want to be with an ex-soldier that's in a wheelchair?" He asked sadly and Eliot moved next to him, putting a hand on his knee.

"A person who can see past the shell. A person who cares more about the inside instead of the outside." He said and smiled sadly, melancholically.

"This type of person doesn't exist." He said.

"It does. You just have to find right the person." Eliot replied before he stood up and walked behind him, pushing the wheel chair back into the hospital.

They walked in silence, each one thinking about their own problems, their own issues. "Eliot?"

"Yes?"

"Could we go to the park?"

"Of course." Eliot changed their direction and went to the park. They used to go there before the hitter moved out of the city. Spencer liked the nature, the silence and peace it provided and Perry loved it because it was the only time he could go outside of the hospital without a doctor or a nurse glued to his side.

"Were you serious about paying my surgery?"

"Of course. I would never joke with something that serious." Eliot said, stopping for a while if front of a little bamboo forest.

"I would pay you back." He said.

"I'm not looking for that, Robert. I want to help you, I really do." He replied, still not looking at him.

"Doc said that they don't do this type of operations here in L.A."

"I know. I already talked to her. If you accept, you'd be moving to Portland with me until you were going to have your surgery, spent some weeks after the operation in the hospital and after that you'd stay with me for a few months for the rehab." He explained.

"Doc knows about that?"

"I told you. I've been calling Doctor Laroque to know how were you." He said, smiling. "Look, you don't have to answer me now. You can have a few days to think about it." He knelt in front of him. "Let's do this: we go back at the hospital, we talk with Doctor Laroque so she can give us the details about everything, you think about it and call me whether your answer is."

"Ok."

The way back at the hospital was silent. Robert couldn't believe it. Yes, he and Eliot were good friends, he considered the older man one of his closest friends even if they hadn't talk for the last years, but there was a huge distance between being good friends and paying a surgery that cost more than ten thousand dollars. And he didn't understand how could Eliot relate to him or to the surgery or whatever… Spencer couldn't have ever been in a wheelchair. A person in a wheelchair like him couldn't move, let along fight, like he did.

They talked with Doctor Laroque, spent some time with some of the guys who knew Eliot from before and then Eliot went back at his hotel. Eliot spent three days with them before heading back to Portland.

It didn't take Perry more than two days to call him.

"Robert?" Eliot said.

"Yes. I have my answer." He said, voice shaking a bit. He took a deep breath before answering. "I accept."

"But?"

"But I want to know why you said you could relate."

There was a brief silence before the hitter spoke again. "Of course. But I won't tell you that on the phone. I promise I will tell you once you are here."

The whole team was waiting for Perry at the airport. Hardison was doing something with his phone, Nate was scanning the room, probably looking for a possible client, Sophie was at the store and Parker…well, Eliot was grabbing her wrist tightly because they already had to pull her away from three suitcases.

"Stay still, Parker." Eliot growled.

"But I'm bored!"

"Well, if you wouldn't have tried to steal from the people you wouldn't be bored." He replied. "Ah. There he is." He walked up at him, pulling the blond woman with him. "Corporal. How was your flight?"

"You could have told me I was going in first class." The younger male said and Parker giggled when he blushed.

"Would have taken the surprise factor away." He replied as the rest of the crew walked to them. "You remember Nate. These are Sophie, Hardison and Parker." He presented as he moved behind the wheelchair, put the duffel bag on the injured man's lap and started to push the wheelchair to the exit.

Once next to the van they had rented, Eliot put the bag at the back of the van, then moved next to Perry and bended over. Everyone watched, mesmerised, how Corporal Perry swung one arm around the back of Eliot's neck and then the hitter lifted him with one arm and put him inside the van in the middle seat and then closed the wheelchair and put it also in the back.

"What?"

"How did you know how to…?" Nate asked, blinking.

"Training." He only replied as he climbed into the van and sat at the right side of Robert.

But Sophie could tell that there was something else.


	2. Chapter 2

"This is huge." Corporal Perry said when he saw the huge apartment the hitter owned.

"Yeah. I like to have space." He replied and then pushed the chair to one room. "This is your room. Is it ok?" Eliot asked.

"Hell yeah. This is big. Last time I had a room of my own I was twelve." Perry said, looking at the room.

Eliot chuckled at that, but nodded; he could understand it. When he was a kid he didn't have a room of his own either, he shared it with his older brother.

"Do you lake steak?"

"Love it." Blue eyes met blue eyes.

"How?"

"Rare to medium-rare." He replied.

Spencer nodded. "I'll leave so you can accommodate your stuff. If you need help or anything don't hesitate to call." After that he walked away and into the kitchen, starting to cook the steaks and the side-food.

Meanwhile, Perry started to put the few clothes he had into the drawers. He was no fool, he could tell that the furniture was the perfect one for someone in a wheelchair: all the drawers where above his mid section but not high enough that he could reach it. The bed was a bit lower than a usual one and he could see that there was a remote, which meant that he could straighten up the head of the bed. Even the door handle was a bit lower than usual.

And there was no way that a normal person would know that.

He finished putting his clothes in the drawers and then went to the kitchen, arching an eyebrow when he saw the Black Ops soldier move around fluently.

"You done?" Spencer asked.

"Yeah. I didn't know you could cook." He said. "And that smells delicious." The Corporal smelled.

Eliot didn't reply, he just walked around the counter and lifted the younger man to sit him one of the stools of the bar.

"You know, you never told me why did you join the army." The one with long hair said as he continued to cook.

Robert didn't answer immediately; he just looked at the hitter's hands. Those hands that he had seen knock two guys in less than a minute and that now were dicing onions with precise and fast movements.

"My uncle had been a soldier. Died in there. My cousins weren't even upset about that and I thought that someone had to follow his… path. That and that I hate study." He explained. "Why did you?"

"I've never close to my family and I needed to get out. Not the best students either. So the army was the fastest way. When I turned eighteen, I signed up, got into the military school, six months later I was into the Black Ops division." He shrugged.

"And what happened? Why aren't you there?"

Eliot chuckled at the obvious curiosity the boy was displaying towards this area of his past. "Well, when I started there was something that were called 'mixed up teams.' Usually they were formed by four Black Ops, two CIA agents, one NSA agent and a Colonel. Sometimes a few soldiers from the Marine, the Navy, Air Forces or the Army. We ran the not-totally-legal operations."

"Isn't that the function of the Black Ops."

"It is. But the ones we ran, they were even worst: killing terrorists, kidnaping, torture… Two or three years later these teams were dismissed and we went back to the normal Black Ops operation. I didn't. I walked away."

"From… where do you get so much money then? You said yourself, soldiers pay isn't that good."

"I'm going to tell you what I did for living once I quit the Army… If you promise me not to freak out and to do the surgery."

Now he _was_ freaking out: why would Eliot say that?

"W-what did you do?"

Eliot put the knives down and sat in front of him. Fidgeting. From all the times they had gone out together when Eliot was a trainer in the hospital, he had never _ever_ seen him fidget.

"I… I was a mercenary." He said, avoiding looking him in the eye.

A mercenary. His host was a mercenary. Or at least had been. Mercenary killed people. For money. They had no country. No family. No honour. But… Eliot had helped him. Helped other people. He still worked for the Army. His friend adored him. He had his crew, and he could tell they were a family.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Eliot said, finally looking at him.

"Mercenaries don't work in Black Operations." He said, dumbly, almost blushing when the words left his mouth.

And Eliot laughed, he laughed so hard he was about to fall of the stool. "I… I just said I was a mercenary and that's all you ask? If I had known that when we first met I would have told you long ago!" He took a deep breath. "No, they usually don't. But usually they don't help people out for free, now do they?"

"I guess not." He looked at him. "But… why did you do it? Why did you turn into a mercenary?"

Eliot moved to the fridge and handed him a beer as he opened one for himself. "You remember when I told you I had this girlfriend back in Oklahoma but that it didn't end up prettily?"

"Yeah. Aimee, right?"

"Yeah. When you are a Black Ops you can be out of home for about two years. I was. When I came back, being twenty-one, she had married another guy. I was broken. My father wasn't talking to me; my mom didn't because she didn't want to have a fight with him, my brother? Had no idea where he was. So I walked away from there and flew to Europe. I had heard that a guy was looking for old soldiers to pull in a job. I was in. And before I knew what was going on, I was killing people. It started with bad people, it ended up being innocent people." He said. "I ain't proud of what I did back then, Robert. But it wasn't me. I was just a shell. I was lost, had no family and nothing to lose, so I didn't really care about anything."

The pain in his voice was almost touchable. Perry could tell that he really wasn't proud of that. That if he could, he would go back in time and never do it. He reached to him and put a hand on top of Eliot, linking their fingers.

"What changed?" He asked softly. He wasn't a gossipy person, but he thought that Spencer needed to talk to someone about that. Someone that would not run away.

The elder took in a deep breath before continuing to tell his story. "For a few years I worked for Damien Moreau, the cruellest man I've ever known, but he let me do anything I wanted, paid me and never asked questions. Ever. He sent me to kill General Lawrence Flores, who was and is an old friend of mine. And I couldn't. I couldn't kill him, so I went back to him and waited to receive a bullet on my head." He chuckled harshly. "That's how Moreau did things. Not with me. He let me walk away."

"Is that what changed you?" The injured man asked.

"No. Not really. Maybe. It was the beginning. After that I did a lot of side jobs. And one day, in Iraq, I saw this girl and she came running towards me. She was no older than six. A group of Iraqis soldiers where after her. She escaped from a prisoner camp. I took the guys down and… the gratitude she showed me, the fact that she wasn't scared of me, it… it killed me. I took her out of the country. You know, no one asks a guy who is carrying two AK-47s, a set of knives and that looks ready to kill at the first wrong movement you do." He joked and Corporal Perry nodded before chuckling too. "I had this friend in Russia who is a forger, asked him to do some papers for her and we both came to the States."

"Where is she now?" He was impressed by the story, but somehow it totally fit Eliot. He smiled and pulled a photo from his wallet of him and her and showed it to him. "Wow. She is really beautiful."

"She is. She's twelve. She is leaving in Seattle." He said. "Her name is officially Hope Miles. Friends of mine adopted her. Illegally, of course, since she wasn't in the system." Robert nodded, understanding that. "I went visit her once every two months if I was in the States. Now I go once a month. Even twice."

"Does she know…? You know, what you do for leaving?"

"Yeah. The couple that adopted her? They were also hitters. Well, he was a hitter and she was a grifter. They wanted to settle down but couldn't have kids, so before they wasted a lot of money on a kid I told them about Hope. A few weeks later she was moving with them."

"That's a really nice story." Robert said, smiling sweetly at the other male.

There was an awkward silence that Eliot broke. "You are so calm." He pointed out.

"You told me not to freak out. Besides, you are not that man anymore. Because you aren't that man anymore, right?"

"Right. Now I just knock people out. Broke some bones." He replied nonchalantly.

Eliot went back to the stove to finish what he was making and Corporal Perry leaned as much as he could so he could see everything.

"Where did you learn to cook?"

"Belgium. I was broken and man took me in. He showed that knives not only can destroy, kill, but can create too." He took a spoon, put some of the food and gave it to Robert who took it and tasted the food.

"That. Is. Delicious. You could have been a chef." The Corporal said, licking the spoon before giving it back to him.

"And that is what I'm going to do when I retire. If I ever do retire." Eliot replied.

"Where?"

"Probably in Hardison's restaurant to keep from going to bankrupt." The hitter said jokingly.

"Will you invite me?" He asked, smirking.

"Of course. Considered yourself invited." He served the food before he went back to the stool, sitting next to him again.

They ate, talking and joking. Eliot was thrilled that Robert didn't freaked out about what he did. As a matter of fact, he seemed to be awfully comfortable with being in an ex-mercenary's house. Not that he minded too much. He liked the kid. Maybe a bit too much.


End file.
